


My Keyhole Fits Your Key

by Jaune



Series: Tell Me Something Good [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anatomy, Blatant and Irreverent Misuse of Famous Quotes, Blushing Steve Rogers, Bonding, Bottom Tony Stark, Compulsive Swallowing, Consent is My Sexy Plaything, Dirty Talk, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Except for Tony's, Frottage, Gratuitous Nuzzling, M/M, Manipulative Behavior, Mates, Medical Kink If You Squint, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Tony Stark, Omega Tony Stark, POV Alternating, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Ph.D. In Denial, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Steve Rogers, Self Confidence Issues, Shy Steve Rogers, Smitten!Steve Rogers, Smut, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Teaching, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Will Likely Regret Everything Later, There's Plot But We All Know Tony Is Getting That Dick in the End, Top Steve Rogers, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune/pseuds/Jaune
Summary: Tony likes teaching Steve. It gives him a goal, a single-minded focus, and gets him out of the miasma of his thoughts. Steve is so clever and anyway, graphs are fun.So when Tony finds out that there weren't any sex-ed classes in the 1940's, he's like, 'duh.'And then he's like, '...Oh, wait.'





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Here is your weekly installment of trash.  
> I'm not sure if I should apologize or thank you for taking the garbage out or what.  
> Please let me know if there are any tags you think I should add.
> 
> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS  
> THIS IS POSSIBLY TRIGGERING
> 
> Both of these characters are consenting, but manipulation and the crossing of personal boundaries are involved, so that may come off pretty dub-con to some.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony likes Steve. That goes about as well as you'd expect.

Tony has always liked teaching Steve things, even when they had just met—well, Steve had just met Tony, while Tony had known about Steve for years. 

Steve had been at Tony’s throat, newly awoken from his sabbatical in the ice and not sure who or where the enemy was supposed to be, anymore. Tony knew Steve had been a bit mixed up, with the place that was supposed to be ‘home’ looking so very changed—new and foreign. 

Steve had seen Tony, had seen ‘Howard’s son’ and he’d probably had all these ideas about how Tony would be a little piece of something familiar. And then, when Tony had not been familiar at all, when he had disappointed Steve—and didn’t Tony just disappoint everyone, at least once or twice or every time—Steve had probably felt even more lost and consequently lashed out. Tony couldn’t blame the guy, as much as he had hated to admit it.

Back then, Tony had not quite been at his best, either. 

Finally face to face with the guy his father had put on a pedestal Tony’s entire life, someone who hadn’t had to beg a day in his life for Howard’s attention, and there he was—all gorgeous and shiny and “perfect specimen of alpha masculinity”, stunning blue eyes bright as a cresting wave on a sunlit beach, Howard’s lost golden idol—befuddled over a transistor radio. To all Tony’s years of trying so hard to be clever, to be ahead of the pack, to have the answer before there was even a question… It had been a slap in the face and, though Tony had tried to suppress his resentment and be mature about the whole thing, to put it all behind him, to not let the shitty parts of his childhood take center stage yet again, it had all come bubbling to the surface and exploded all over him and Steve. It’s easy, now, to say that it was all because of the Tesseract, but…

Anyway, Tony and Steve had been given the time and opportunity to get over the mountain that was their shared enmity. Thankfully, they had possessed the initiative, too. Charm and gentlemanly behavior, who knew that was Steve’s golden ticket? Sure, it had gotten Tony off of other people’s shit lists before; that hadn’t been new. 

But the fact that this time he had been gentlemanly escorting a missile through a portal, well. That was kind of new.

Pepper may still be angry at him about it, but Tony could not quite regret it. Tony could not regret anything that would make Steve Rogers—Captain America! His childhood fanboy crush—come up to him with that contrite smile, clap one of those huge hands on his back, and say that maybe he’d been wrong about Tony. That hand had completely covered his shoulder in the Iron Man armor, and Tony could only imagine—and had imagined several times, since then—how that broad hand might cover his shoulder if he wasn’t in the armor. And then, of course, if he was not in a suit jacket, either, or a shirt. Tony would be the first to admit that a lot of his thoughts about Steve were rated R, not appropriate for ages under 17.

Still, knowing about Steve certainly was not the same as actually knowing Steve. Knowing Steve was… warm. It was peeking over Steve’s shoulder at a half-finished piece of Steve’s art and chuckling at Steve’s blush-faced embarrassment. It was trust, moving at Steve’s direction during combat drills and then out in the field with the team when everything went FUBAR, still trusting that same direction to get them all through in the end. It was comfort, falling asleep on the couch during a movie marathon of cinema Steve needed to know in order to exist in the 21st century, and waking up so warm he was sweaty, pushed into the magical, key-stealing space between the seat back and the pillows practically smothered by the pecs of the century and being lovingly squeezed into Tony-jam by octopus super-soldier limbs. It was humor, laughing at Steve—Steve’s _completely_ perplexed face when Tony had told him “Yer a wizard, Harry!” for the first time, _priceless_ —and laughing _with_ Steve—when he had helped a little old lady across the street and almost been summarily kidnapped by same little old lady, an heiress of some sort who had developed an elaborate plot to elope with Captain America, whether he was willing or not, but hadn’t noticed that her shackle-like grip had seized onto a nearby lamp-pole instead of Steve’s arm. Tony had honestly been a little offended, since she had chosen the lamp pole over him, saying she knew an omega when she ‘saw’ one. And what exactly was Tony supposed to say to that? Tony is an omega—where is the lie? Eh.

So yeah, Steve was great. Really great. Really _really_ gr—except for those when he put his coffee grounds into the food disposal. Like, what did he think the tower was, some pit-stop off of the interstate? They weren’t savages. And given the number of times that Tony had mentioned it both directly and indirectly, at this point Tony was certain Steve was just trolling him. Star-spangled asshole. But, yeah, Steve Rogers was basically Tony Stark’s favorite flavor jelly bean.

Tony liked spending time with Steve, had done so ever since they had agreed to maybe not hate each other, for the sake of the team and all that. They had repelled each other like two magnets with similarly charged poles and then suddenly one of those poles had flipped. Tony found himself spending all his free time with Steve, whether they went out or just bummed around in the tower, it was all great. Steve had even taught Tony something about himself.

Tony loved teaching. That was a new revelation. Or, well, Tony loved teaching Steve. It got him out of the miasma of all his other thoughts. Every new subject gave Tony a goal and the single-minded focus to achieve it. He couldn’t worry over stock prices or medications (either self or doctor prescribed) when he was focusing on making Steve’s clever blue eyes light up with comprehension or sparkle with mischief. And Steve was so receptive; he learned so quickly (for a non-genius, eh). It had taken Steve all day to figure out the moon walk, but the guy had grasped mammal cloning (Dolly the sheep, that’s cute. Was that you, Tony?”) in a matter of minutes. Keeping in mind that Steve was the very definition of displaced and had a ton of other issues going on, Tony was a little bit in awe of the guy (not that he lets on at all, shut up, Jarvis. It’s called ‘gazing appreciatively,’ not ‘staring’).

So, yeah. Teaching Steve anything new was pretty fun. Steve was fun, learning was fun (specifically graphs, graphs have _always_ been fun), so basically fun was being had by all. It was even fun flirting with Steve—God, it was—and having a legitimate reason to stare at Steve’s gorgeous everything and watch the guy drink milkshakes through a straw while staring up at Tony from—

Wait. Wait, that was a fantasy. Hang on, reality resuming.

To be fair, making milkshakes had become pretty much a tradition for their study-dates. After all, Steve had super-soldier metabolism to deal with, so snacks were a necessity.

Speaking of, Tony was just finishing cleaning up after Steve’s second lesson on the internet. They had discovered that Steve enjoyed playing RPGs, of all things. Steve had very obviously appreciated the detailed graphics and teamwork aspects of the games that they had played over the six-hour stint. Calling it a lesson might have been a bit of a stretch, since they were basically just hanging out and climbing virtual mountains, but hey. Tony made a note to ask Jarvis for recommendations on the best rated RPGs of the year. Only the best for his Stevie. 

Hopefully that would give the guy the chance to get on a forum or something and make some online friends or use his super-righteous-bad-guy-beating morals to vanquish some trolls. Tony was no psychiatrist, but it seemed that Steve did not have many things to tie him to the current century. That was probably… not good.

Tony hated to think of his friend being anchorless. For Steve, Tony hoped he could become a tether to the world, someone that Steve might reach to for support or a hug or… Tony didn’t know. All Tony knew was that Steve got this listless expression on his face sometimes, like that one time when Tony had taught him about Kevlar, and Tony wanted to help chase that expression from Steve’s face in whatever way he could. Permanently, if possible. That look made Tony nervous and he could not stand to see it on Steve’s face. He couldn’t stand seeing it, and every time that he did, he wanted to wrap Steve in a blanket, cuddle Steve, and feed him warm and delicious food until that lost and lonely expression was wiped clean away. 

That was what teamwork and friendship were for, right? That’s what teamship was for. Was teamship a word? That should totally be a word. He would have Pepper add it to the dictionary. He was feeling teamship feelings for Steve.

Tony was aware that he was not feeling only teamship feels for Steve, but if you stuck your head in the sand when the lion was walking by, it couldn’t eat you, right? Because if you couldn’t see it, then it couldn’t see you. Was that denial or logic? Tony wondered.

Tony looked over at where Steve was loading their dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Steve seemed either very focused on his task or very focused on not emoting, because Tony could not get a read on him. A distracted frown pulled at the corner of Tony’s goateed upper lip as he considered the man in front of him. He hoped that Steve was content here. 

Tony wondered if maybe there was something else that he could do for Steve. He wanted to help him. If anyone deserved some happiness, it was Steve Rogers. Tony would even have offered to help Steve work out some stress, no strings attached, Tony’s pining heart tucked securely away so as not to make a mess of the sheets, but Steve had never displayed one iota of that particular type of interest in Tony. Tony wasn’t even sure if Steve was aware of Tony’s secondary gender. The guy never mentions it, never mentions anyone’s, and never mentions his own preferences. Whenever Tony had pointed out a particularly attractive specimen of any gender or secondary gender, Steve had turned red and avoided eye contact. Whenever Tony had tried fishing or tried setting Steve up, he was basically shooting blind. Maybe that was why Tony had yet to hit the target.

The team had gone to a few events, galas and art showings and such, and Tony had introduced Steve to a slew of omegas there, even a beta or two. Tony had considered alphas, too, but they all got so nervous around Steve that it seemed hopeless. He had thought that maybe Steve would fare better if he had a bonded mate, someone to give him some stability in the new world he had woken up in, give the guy a bit more warmth and sweetness in life. 

Unfortunately, Steve had not shown any interest in those omegas. It was unfortunate, truly unfortunate, Tony argued with himself, crushing down the jealous and abhorrently selfish side of himself that said Steve was _his_ and those omegas shouldn’t even be looking at Steve. Tony did not have the right to those kinds of thoughts. Steve definitely didn’t want to be Tony’s alpha. That would be crazy, and maybe if Tony scolded himself a million more times, he might finally stop thinking about it. Steve had not shown any interest in Tony, and there was only so far that wishful thinking could take a person before it just became ‘making things up.’

Steve just looked so distant, sometimes. Every once in a while, when Steve did not think anyone was looking, he would stand with his back straight and posture stiff, eyes staring straight ahead into nothing. Tony wondered what he thought about in those moments, those moments when he looked simultaneously blank and in pain. Those moments when he looked like a haunted man staring down his ghosts. Tony was sure they weren’t happy thoughts, and... Tony wanted so badly for Steve to be happy.

Steve stiffened and his head rose, turning away from the dishwasher. Tony panicked for a moment. Had Steve sensed that Tony was staring at him? Had Tony begun to inadvertently leak? He had no control over it and it would not be the first time just being with Steve had made him slick. Those had not been his proudest moments. Thankfully, Steve did not raise his head completely, just paused as if listening to something, and then continued to slot the dishes into the rungs.

“Hey, Sam. Hey, Bruce,” Steve called out without looking up from his task. Sure enough, Bruce and Sam entered the kitchen a few moments later. Tony tossed the last scraps from their snack into the trashcan and looked up at his teammates.

“Hey, Cap. Tony,” Sam said, meeting Tony’s gaze and nodding at him. Bruce smiled and waved at Tony and then continued his discussion with Sam. The two migrated over to the couch. Bruce tapped on the coffee table, which activated a holographic screen. 

Tony gave it a sidelong glance as he meandered over to where Steve was taking forever to put their meager dishes into the washer. When Tony was close enough to see his expression, Steve turned his head away and closed the dishwasher. That did not stop or slow Tony’s approach, and eventually Tony came to a stop directly next to Steve. However, instead of turning towards Tony, Steve twisted around to lean back against the counter and looked across the room, over to where Sam was showing Bruce schematics for a new device. At Steve’s movement, Tony turned to look, too, but it was too far away to really tell what the device was. It could have been a drone or a self-guiding missile from what Tony could see, which hardly narrowed down the possibilities at all.

“You okay, buddy?” Tony asked, laying a comforting hand on Steve’s forearm and looking up into Steve’s eyes. If Steve did not want to talk about it, Tony would not force him, but Tony wanted Steve to know that he was there.

Steve’s eyes darted down to meet Tony’s, and the corner of his lip pulled back in a smile or a grimace, Tony wasn’t sure. Tony wasn’t sure about anything at the moment because he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking. _God,_ the man was tall. Tony was 5”8’, tall for an omega, but Steve was 6”5’ and he was almost an entire foot taller. There were some taller alphas, but Steve made looming an art form, probably because his body was a work of art. Well, it was a work of science, and science made the best art, anyway. What was that saying? Great men cast long shadows? Good God, Steve Rogers definitely cast long shadows and he probably also had a long—

Tony pulled his arm back from Steve’s so quickly he was sure a lesser man would have flinched. He needed to get himself under control before he was forced to make a tactical retreat in order to change his underwear. Tony looked up to apologize to Steve, only to notice that the guy was not looking at him anymore, but was instead looking in the direction of Sam and Bruce again. His wide pink lips were pressed tightly together, but there was something desperate and hard in Steve’s eyes. Tony wanted to reach up and smooth his fingers over Steve’s mouth, get his friend to release the punishing pressure. Steve was pressing them together so hard, they would probably spring back to fullness, red and a little swollen, soft and moist when they met Tony’s and—

Tony took a hasty step back. His body was really out of control! His heat was not due for the next two weeks. He had no idea why he was acting this way, but it needed to stop before it ruined Steve and Tony’s relationship.

Good God, did the super-soldier have super-pheromones, or what?

The worst of it was that Steve had clearly noticed. He was blushing, and his jaw was rigid. While he was still looking at their teammates and nothing in his stance had changed, it was obvious to Tony that Steve was pointedly not looking at him. 

Steve was panicking as much as Tony had been, and Tony could tell by the thoughtless way that he blurted out, “Is Natasha done with her rut yet?”

Steve had said it to the room at large, and that caused the other two Avengers to look up at him from their holographic model. Tony tried to reign in his unease at both his and Steve’s reactions.

“No, she’s still in the Red Room of Pain/Pleasure,” Sam responded.

“Which is currently green—thank you, Tony.” Bruce added, grinning at his Science Bro.

“You only love me for my irony,” Tony quipped. He turned to check on Steve and was relieved to see that his jaw had relaxed.

“Well we love you for other reasons, but yeah, mostly for your irony and the fact that all of your bathrooms have bidets.” Bruce replied with a stony face, mock-seriously, and then his lips pulled into a conspiratorial smile. 

“And, uh,” Steve’s voice was gravelly and, if Tony did not know better, he would say that there was a growl underneath the words, but he did know better. Maybe Steve just had some hummus stuck in his throat, “Why don’t you go away, Bruce?”

Steve raised a clenched fist to his mouth and coughed into it to clear his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was clearer. “I mean, why haven’t I heard about you using the—The Room?” 

“Of Pain or of Pleasure, take your pick but you can’t just leave it there. It could get confusing,” Tony said slyly, and chuckled when Steve shot him a look that was an equal mix of annoyed and embarrassed.

“Of Pleasure, then.” Steve conceded.

“Well, I’m a beta,” Bruce replied, and Tony thought that the dictionary might as well have an illustration of the face Bruce was making next to the definition of ‘confused’. Steve’s expression was not much different.

“Yeah, remember sex-ed, Cap?” Sam said, grinning wide and displaying his cosmetic gap for the entire room to admire.

“Sex what? What does being a beta have to do with anything?” Steve said, stunned.

“Sex education, Steve, come on,” Tony chuckled, leaning close enough to elbow Steve in joviality before leaning back again to ensure that small touch did not have any unwanted side effects, “didn’t they have sex-ed in the 40’s? Betas don’t go into heat or rut.”

As soon as he had spoken the words, a thought struck Tony like a lightning bolt. It coincided with Steve’s own denial; no, of course they had not had sex education back then, or at least not the way that modern sex ed was covered, in depth and with frank discussions of bodily fluids. Back then, polite society had meant trying your hardest to ignore each other’s sexual bits until you were already married with the second baby on the way. And Steve was what, 25, when he had crashed and been frozen?

‘Oh shit, impending brain malfunction,’ Tony thought, staring at Steve’s guileless face while his own thoughts were grinding to a forced halt.

“No, I don’t think so,” Steve replied as Tony was having a miniature breakdown internally at Steve’s gap in knowledge. God, did the man even have any idea about sex? Tony had really let his friend down, teaching him about the space walk and the space shuttle, when—what if Steve didn’t even know how to figuratively send himself into space? 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Tony heard Sam say, just a hazy voice in the background.

Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Was Steve a v… was he a vir… a virg… Tony’s mind kept stuttering on the thought. No, no way. No way was Steve a virgin. Tony had the distinctly unique feeling of experiencing his own mind disconnecting and going offline for a while. When he came back, Sam and Bruce were still staring at Steve in concern, so Tony decided he could not have whited out for too long and was relieved.

“Okay, you know what, that makes sense. Don’t worry, we’ll fix it, Stevie,” Tony started, shaking off his stupor, raising a hand and putting it on Steve’s virgin bicep. Wait, no, that was not a confirmed virgin bicep, Tony told himself. It could just be a normal bicep. But Tony was a little skeptical because: since when had anything about Steven G. Rogers been normal? Tony was fairly certain that the G stood for God’s Greatest Gift to Fitness Mags. He could just be a regular alpha (yeah, right, tiptoeing into the land of fantasy, there) with regular biceps and regular everything else. 

Tony was aware that he had a Ph.D. in denial, but he had basically been born with that and sometimes one couldn’t choose one’s strengths, okay? Tony had to ban certain thoughts from his own head (for example, any thought about any part of Steve's body was particularly unsafe) in order to preserve his tentative (and much argued about) hold on sanity, at least when other people were around. Tony fought off the thoughts at that moment because, if he did not, he was pretty sure that all of his next words would come out as some long, unintelligible omega croon. He gulped audibly before he continued.

“Don’t worry, Steve. You, too, will have your time in the Red Room of Pain.” Tony promised, “Though, of course, it is re-painted after each use and will ironically not be red, ever.”

“Just call him Tony Snark,” Sam joked.

There was a brief silence in the room.

“We’ll work on it, Sam, we’ll work on it. You’ll be funny one day.” Tony said, trying to sound soothing. The way it actually came out was too close to an omega croon for Tony’s comfort. Tony blamed Steve. Damn those super-soldier pheromones.

Sam and Bruce laughed good-naturedly at Tony's reply but Steve remained silent. There was a barely-there smile on his lips while his eyes wrinkled at the corners and pinned Tony under Steve's fond gaze.

And now, Tony thought, was a good time for his escape. Before he actually did need a change of underwear. If he could not get control of his body’s reactions around Steve, and soon, Tony would have to face the very real decision about whether or not he would need to begin wearing those diapers prescribed for omegas who gaped during heat week. Except, you know… on a daily basis… outside of heat.

“Smell you later, guys!” Tony said, shooting finger guns at them as he disappeared around the corner. 

He had some teaching aids to prepare.


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's a good guy, but every man has his price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I imagine the Tony-side of the Tony/Steve situation in this fic:
> 
> 1\. You take a pillar candle out of your storage closet.  
> 2\. Light it.  
> 3\. Red sparks begin coming off of the wick.  
> 4\. You realize, suddenly, that it's dynamite.
> 
> But that candle is already lit. Oh, Tony.  
> XD

Steve likes when Tony teaches him things. He liked spending time with his omega.

Tony was the type of omega that Steve never thought would glance twice at him when he was growing up poor and sick in Brooklyn. Funny, intelligent, considerate, and sweet just for Steve. Every time that Tony made a joke or laughed, presented a better version of gear for the team, showed off any of his vast knowledge, or even when he just invited Steve out for a meal, Steve wanted to mark him. It was getting worse, controlling these urges. It was getting more difficult. Sometimes, Tony would call Steve up to his office in the Tower, to share some new intel or gossip or pop culture reference Steve just _had_ to know and most of the time Steve could just enjoy being with Tony. Most of the time, Steve could just get in, sniff subtly around to make sure no alphas are trying to elbow in on his plans (the slowly moving tortoise that is his courtship with Tony) and get out, but these days… The last time Steve had met Tony in his office, Steve had been forced to ask Jarvis later what the meeting was about, in his rooms, when it was all said and done. Steve had not remembered a word of the conversation because he had been envisioning bending Tony over his desk the entire time, fucking Tony until the genius forgot what words even meant.

Steve had a strong moral code, even more so since he had woken up from his arctic-induced coma. Ever since the ice, or ever since Tony—they were pretty much the same, so Steve couldn’t tell which one was the catalyst—he’d had a difficult time repressing his instincts, specifically around Tony. So, Steve’s moral code, which was rigid before, had become pretty much indestructible, now. 

It did not help that his ruts were so irregular they could not even be scheduled. Steve had, surprisingly, not gone into rut since he had moved into the Avengers Tower three months ago. Before that, it had been rough. He had been going through his ruts in a SHIELD Heat Room—though apparently, they called them ‘Time Rooms’ now. It really boggled Steve’s mind how some things were more politically correct than they had been in the 40’s, and some things were less. Steve had been having multiple ruts per month, all coming on with little to no warning. He had been cleared for field missions, but barely, and the whole business with the Tesseract had not helped. 

Still, Steve was always there to stand between innocents and injustice. With great power came great responsibility. He was not trying to emulate Atlas, but he had a great team made up of good people, and they could make a difference when it counted. That was what was important.

Not how many times Tony made jokes with Sam that Steve did not fully understand, or how many secretive smiles Tony and Natasha shared when they thought no one was looking. Or how Tony seemed to have this club of geniuses that Steve was not a part of. Those things were unimportant and should not make Steve want to carry Tony away to his suite in the Tower in an Ann Darrow-esque fashion that left no question as to what they were about to do. Or who Tony belonged to… with, Steve corrected himself. Who Tony belonged _with_.

Steve was becoming a knothead. He had made fun of that kind of alpha when he had been growing up both before and after the orphanage, but mostly during his time spent there. Some alphas liked to push others around and blame it on their instincts. Steve had always maintained that secondary gender is called secondary for a reason. People are human first, and everyone is made up of good and bad. It’s every individual's responsibility to govern their own thoughts and actions and to be the best person they can be. People ought to try to make the world a better place, especially the people with power over other lives. They owed them. If someone had the power to make another person's suffering lessen even a little, then it was their duty to do it. Everyone deserved a certain standard of living, and everyone deserved a free trial, and Steve knew that Tony believed that, too. He agreed with Steve, and that was important. Mates should see eye to eye on important issues like that.

Which Steve had to remind himself of once Tony left the room sometimes, because, well… sometimes thoughts were hard. Steve hated to see Tony go, but he loved to watch him leave. At those moments, Steve would love to say that he would stick to his figurative moral guns, but Tony could just be so distracting sometimes. Not that he was blaming Tony. The man could not help that he was beautiful.

Back when Steve had just met Tony, he remembered how disappointed he had been, in stages. Initially, he had been disappointed when Tony had not seemed to hold with the noble ideals that Howard (and Steve) had felt, and he had not thought that Tony was a sufficient legacy for his friend's lineage. That idea was laughable, now; now that Steve knew what a great man Tony was, greater than his father and Steve put together, probably. Then Steve had been disappointed in himself, at how he had judged Tony so quickly and written him off. Sure, first impressions were important but Steve knew they weren't everything. And after that… Steve had been disappointed that he could not have the pretty omega in the window. Life was not fair, Steve remembered thinking, that the one omega Steve could see a future with was his friend's son. It would not be right to attempt wooing Tony for a number of reasons, Steve had told himself. He and Tony were so different. Tony might think it was weird. Wouldn't it be weird? Steve had felt a little guilty just thinking about it. He should be thinking of Tony as family, not trying to get him ‘in the family way.’ Even back then, when he was just getting to know the other man, those reasons had been a flimsy barrier against Steve's desires. He had needed to repeat those facts to himself by rote every time he caught himself thinking about Tony. Under the constant pressure brought on by Tony's presence, those excuses had not held out for long.

Steve could not help himself, and the more he got to know Tony, the more he saw Tony for the nurturing, considerate, and kind man that he was. People valued Tony’s genius, but most of them did not see that there was more to him than that. Steve saw. Others saw Tony and valued him for his sensual appearance. Steve saw that, too, of course, but Tony was more than that. Tony was everything that Steve wanted. Steve wanted someone to complement him and challenge him, and he wanted to be able to do the same for his mate. 

Steve was keeping rigid control of himself and his urges. That would be the plan until Tony realized that Steve was his ideal mate, but recently it had been difficult holding back his instinctive responses around Tony. Steve suspected that Tony’s scent had been growing in potency because there was a compatible alpha in close quarters with him, now—Steve, it had to be Steve—and Steve had noticed the increase in Tony’s twitchiness around him. Steve had always known that Tony liked looking at him, but recently Tony’s staring had gotten more frequent and intense. Steve was not complaining. Whatever drew his mate to see him as a potential alpha was A-okay in Steve’s books. The quicker, the better. Tony’s response to him was becoming stronger, yes, but Steve’s answering responses were getting more potent, too, and harder to control.

Tony’s most recent foray into teaching Steve had been about the internet, specifically gaming. Steve had found what Tony called an RPG for them to play. Steve was not quite clear on what that stood for, but Tony had already taken the discussion off in another direction before Steve could ask about it, and Steve was quickly distracted. The Pokemon things were kind of like people and Steve had liked playing with them. It was pretty neat that such weird and cute little things could protect themselves in various ways. He and Tony had looked over the Pokemon available and had a long discussion over which ones were each other’s “spirit animal” as Tony had called it. Then they had played for a while. Steve liked training the little creatures, and it especially felt like he was putting together a real team since they seemed to have their own personalities. It was great for a while, playing a fun game and being close to Tony and having his attention, but Steve did not really care for when the Pokemon died. The game called it ‘fainting’ but they looked dead to Steve. Tony, too astute for his own good at the best of times, had noticed that it had bothered Steve and called an end to the game. They had moved on to play a few other games after that, but the most important thing was that Tony was there with him, had made space for Steve in his busy schedule, and Tony’s voice and scent made Steve feel completely safe in a way that only Tony could.

Steve knew that Tony would make time in his schedule for their other teammates if they asked him, but Steve often did not even have to ask. Tony seemed to seek him out the same way that he sought Tony whenever there was some free time. He and Tony spent a disproportionate amount of time together compared to what they spent with the other Avengers. There was a space in Tony’s life just for Steve, and Steve’s uniform and shield got the most upgrades (after the Iron Man armor). It was no secret. Steve loved that Tony played favorites, because his favorite was clearly Steve. 

Steve wanted him.

It was not fair, Steve thought, that one man could be so attractive inside and out, with so much unlimited potential in every area, so capable himself and yet still so patient. Before Tony, Steve would have sworn it was impossible for one person to smell so _warm_ all of the time, but Tony was impossible in all sorts of ways. That was why, when Tony’s body reacted to Steve, or if Steve had spent a generous amount of time in close proximity with Tony, the omega’s scent would diffuse into the air around him and hang there, wafting around Steve’s head. Steve would have to wrestle with himself not to ground the omega, bear him to the floor and show Tony how compatible they were, show both Tony and himself that compatibility of their scents was not a lie or exaggerated. Tony smelled just shy of perfection, and Steve knew that last little bit that was missing was just Tony’s scent mingling with his own. Steve had been able to hold himself back so far from just tackling Tony, since he doubted the man would thank him for it. It was getting harder and harder to hold himself back, though, and the number of items in the Tower that had become collateral damage was dramatically increasing. Sometimes Tony’s scent was so potent that Steve could taste it on his tongue. Those were the very dangerous moments.

If asked, Steve would say he was a good guy, yeah. Tony called him a ‘righteous avenging angel’ and maybe that was true, sometimes. When it came to the really important things, though? Steve fought dirty.

Consent was important to Steve, and Tony deserved better than to be mauled simply because his body was doing as it should with a compatible alpha in range. That was why, when Steve saw his chance to encourage Tony to make a move, he took it without hesitation. In action on an op, you took your shot when you had it, and this shot was ripe for the taking.

Steve knew about the birds and the bees. He knew about alpha, beta, and omega gender compatibility and had known for quite some time. He had learned about heats and ruts. It had not been in a class like his teammates had implied, but he knew how things worked. 

He also knew that Tony loved the idea that poor ignorant Steve Rogers needed Tony to teach him all about the big ole modern world. 

Tony wanted Steve to fit in, even as he made fun of him, and to be comfortable in this bright, futuristic world. Tony was a good friend and a good omega. Those ties he had offered to help Steve build? Steve was going to use them to tie his omega so tightly to him it would be like they were one being.

Well, that had been the plan, anyway. It had been a few days since Steve had feigned ignorance of the sexual aspects of the secondary genders and Tony still had not followed up with him. Tony had not approached Steve or said a word to him about it, and Steve was starting to get nervous. What if Tony had decided he was not the man for the job? Steve did not want anyone else teaching him about any of it; that would completely defeat the purpose of the entire exercise.

But, no, here was Tony now. He came into the Tower’s common room and toward Steve with that trademark cocky swagger, though all Steve saw were his wagging hips and bright mischievous grin. 

“Hey there, Celtic Thunder,” Tony greeted, a black Stark-branded backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Tony’s hips swayed from one side to another in a way that made Steve want to frame them with his hands, press down on them to feel the exact way the muscles and bones shifted. Steve’s SHIELD-appointed psychiatrist had a pendulum in her office that swung from one side to another, always even, always moderately-paced, always the same every time, and Steve had not liked the way it had made him feel. 

If it had been Tony’s hips in that session instead, Steve would have felt much better about the even swing, back and forth, though he could not promise that he would have paid any attention to anything else. 

Steve wanted to stand behind Tony and shift his omega’s hips back into him, settle Tony’s smaller hips into the cradle of his own, and then smooth his hands down the front of his mate’s thighs. Just a nice massage to relax the muscles and work his omega up a bit, then his hands would gradually start making their way inwards. They would caress the sides of Tony’s knees, massaging gently, just rubbing the man lightly through his fitted khakis. Steve would make his way up Tony’s inner thighs and Tony—who was certainly the most sensual being Steve had ever encountered—would take the cue and naturally begin widening his legs, encouraging Steve’s hands higher—

“Hey there, Mull of Kintyre, I’m talking to you. You spacing out on me?” Tony’s light tenor broke into Steve’s fantasy and Steve had to turn his face away. Steve knew his blush-prone ears were betraying him when Tony snickered.

“Whoa there, you okay, buddy? If you were anyone else, I’d say you were thinking some un-Captain America, un-Steve Rogers-like thoughts,” Tony said genially, clapping Steve’s shoulder with one warm, calloused hand.

Oh, they were Steve Rogers-like thoughts, alright. Steve just knew he shouldn’t be thinking them.

Steve gave himself a mental shake and turned to smile at Tony. “Hey there, Tony. What have you been up to today?”

Tony shrugged, the tendons in his shoulders bunching visibly beneath the skintight fabric. “Just worked on a couple things in the lab, balancing some things in the suit and working on something I wanted to talk to you about. You free?”

Steve hopped off of his stool and approached Tony. “Yeah, what is it you wanted to show me, Tony?”

“Follow me. I’ve got the whole room set up,” Tony beckoned to Steve, leading him down a hallway lined with motion-detecting lights. They lit up as he and Tony walked, lighting the way a few feet in front of them with every progressive step.

Tony stopped at a door. Steve knew which room it was even though he had never had to use it, after all, there was a placard on the wall announcing its utility.

“Hm, what could we possibly—”

“Have to do in the Red Room of Pain? Hold your horses, Desperado, you’ll see. Don’t worry, I’m not in heat,” Tony said over his shoulder, grinning cheekily as the door slid open to admit them. 

Steve followed Tony into the room. Steve could tell from the moment he stepped over the threshold that the AC was on high, making the room slightly chilly. There was a bed that appeared freshly made, sporting perfect hospital corners, towards the far right of the room, set away from everything else. The room was dimly lit with yellow light, though Steve could see the wall furthest from the door was basically a wall-length rack. 

There were multiple contraptions hanging from it, some leather and some plastic. Steve could easily identify a few things; there were whips, leashes, and collars, though they were larger than Steve imagined a dog’s would usually be. There were several drawers beneath the rack, set flush into the wall so exactly that they would likely indiscernible to all but his enhanced eyes. There was a black leather bench set near one end of the wall, and strangely, there was a desk set up near the other end. Steve would almost swear it was Tony’s desk from his office. There was a projector on it that was throwing a table chart up on the wall perpendicular to the one with all of the sex aides on it. There were figures standing to the left of the projection, near the wall closest to the door. At the sight, Steve stopped in his tracks.

There were six anatomical models of the human body, lined up from tallest to shortest, and Steve felt his face ignite. They were all naked, and some sections of them had been formed as if the skin was lifted away, allowing the viewer to see internal organs, bone, and muscle. It was gruesome but beautiful somehow, and Steve was entirely arrested by them.

“Uh, um, Tony,” Steve stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the models even as Tony moved to the desk. Tony picked something up and came back to Steve, depositing something in his hands.

Steve was finally able to rip his gaze away from the medical models to look down at what Tony had given him. It was a packet of papers, neatly collated with several staples placed evenly down the left side.

“Don’t worry about those for now, big guy. We’ll get to them later.” Tony said, directing a momentary smirk in the models’ direction and then moving back to the desk to cue up the virtual presentation. Tony reached into the center desk drawer and retrieved an extendable wooden pointer stick, which he extended to its full length with a whipping motion that almost made Steve jump.

“You may as well get comfortable Steve,” Tony said, smiling fondly at Steve as if there were not six other naked human bodies in the room with them. He pressed a button on the wall near the desk and the plaster panel next to it slid upwards, revealing a small inset area that included a refrigerator, a high table with stools, a microwave, and a mini-freezer. Tony gestured to the area, but Steve grabbed a stool and dragged it next to Tony’s desk before he sat on it. He did not want to be so far from Tony.

“Now, I think it’s important that we discuss the subtle and not-so-subtle differences between the genders. In that packet,” Tony gestured to the papers in Steve’s lap, “you will find comprehensive explanations about each gender and their defining characteristics.”

Steve felt the shock slowly draining away as Tony slipped into his familiar teacher mode. Steve thumbed the pages he held and wondered what Tony had made graphs of this time. His omega seemed to have some sort of obsession with graphs. It was cute. 

Sure enough, page six contained a bar graph on fertility rates in omegas and betas over their lifetimes. Page seven had three pie graphs with detailed explanation on the proportions of each secondary gender and what percentage had heterosexual vs homosexual preferences. Page eight—Steve flushed red before hastily closing the packet. He had been taken by surprise at the enlarged photos of genitalia that had been printed—in vivid color—all across pages eight and nine. People in the future were so open with these kinds of things, now. He took a moment to regret that he had not read the Table of Contents, and he tuned back in to Tony’s lesson with his cheeks and the tips of his ears flaming.

“—and these are the hormone production ratios, according to both sex and secondary gender. As you can see, female omegas have the highest amount of testosterone to estrogen ratio at 44:190, though omega males are not far behind at 70:160. Alphas are practically the inverse of that, while male and female betas are in the median of this range, 100:40 and 50:100 respectively. Most beta males don’t even menstruate, lucky bastards.” 

Tony paused to shoot Steve a cheeky grin. “Though you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Mr. Alpha’s Alpha? I wouldn’t know either, being male omega, thank God, but I’ve been told multiple times how terrible it can be. I don’t know how male omegas dodged the crapshoot that all other carriers have to deal with, but I’ll take my wins where I can get them.”

Tony clicked to the next slide, which showed a projection of the first bar graph that Steve had seen in the packet. Tony proceeded to explain in detail for the next few slides, and Steve, who already knew all of this information, was thoroughly entertained by watching his omega’s nipples progressively harden in the cool temperature of the room. Steve made sure that his face was school into a rapt and interested expression though, so that Tony would not clue in on the fact that Steve was conducting his own experiment. 

How long until Tony noticed that his nipples were poking up through his shirt, calling for Steve’s attention? Would Tony realize that Steve’s cock was hardening so that he could deliver that attention, and much more besides, before Steve could fully suppress it? What would be the dependent and independent variables for that experiment? Steve wondered, as Tony had reached the dreaded genitalia slide and was busy pointing out the relevant organs that made up female alpha genitalia.

Steve did not care about female alphas.

Steve’s gaze kept sliding to the omega genitalia, specifically that of the male omega, which included a small to medium penis, external testicles, and a prostate gland. Tony explained that the natural lubrication that coated the omega’s vaginal or anal opening came from the Bartholin’s gland. Steve tried unsuccessfully to stop his eyes from straying to the front of Tony’s pants.

“All female genders can produce slick/vaginal lubrication naturally, regardless of heat/rut state. Male genders do not produce natural lubricant. The male omega, once again, is the exception to this rule. The male omega is the only male who can also produce natural slick both during and outside of heat.” Tony said in his detached, teaching voice, though Steve noticed the strength of Tony’s scent increase. 

Steve imagined the scent settling over him even though he was fairly sure he could not truly feel it even with his enhanced senses, emitted from Tony’s glands and perhaps from some of the very same slick that Tony was discussing while trying so hard to maintain a clinical manner. Steve could not tell if Tony’s glands were just producing more pheromones than they had been before, or if Tony’s Bartholin’s gland had responded to its name and was now hard at work. Was Tony slick? 

Steve swallowed twice, compulsively.

“And that’s the end of the prepared materials I had for this. Do you have any questions, Steve?” Tony asked, turning to Steve. If Tony was wet at all, he was doing an excellent job of concealing it.

‘Get yourself together, Rogers,” Steve reprimanded himself. ‘Don’t lose sight of the target.’

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it for the most part, Tony. I always learn a little better hands-on, though.” Steve said, and he mentally applauded himself for the evenness of his tone.

“Yep, I’ve got you covered. That’s why I designed these bad boys,” Tony said, indicating the six models and moving toward them. 

“I’m assuming you already know pretty much everything about this one,” Tony said cattily, using his pointer stick to prod the anatomical model of the alpha male. Steve was surprised to see the skin indent a bit as Tony poked it. “But I guess we may as well go in order to make sure we don’t miss any of the gritty details.”

“Is that… soft?” Steve asked stiltedly, pointing to the model Tony was about to explain.

“Hm? Oh, yes,” Tony purred, squeezing playfully at the model’s defined pectoral, “very flesh-like. These are all food-grade silicone and anatomically correct. Nothing but the best for you, Stevie. Did you want to touch?”

Steve shook his head mutely, trying not to react to the sight of Tony groping at the alpha’s pectoral, though he could not stop the sympathetic twinge in his own chest as he thought about what Tony’s warm groping hands would feel like on his skin. He thanked God that the model did not have nipples. God only knew what kind of treatment Tony would subject those to. Steve shuddered involuntarily. 

“Cold, Mr. Rogers?” Tony asked. “I can turn the air down a bit. Jarvis—”

“No! That’s fine,” Steve hastily cut Tony off. He was not ready to say goodbye to Tony’s nipples.

“Yes, sir?” Jarvis’ voice echoed through the room though, as always, Steve was unsure where it was emanating from.

Tony gave Steve a calculating look, as if wondering whether Steve was truly comfortable or just trying to be polite. Eventually Tony said, “Nevermind, Jay. Capsicle says he’s fine.”

“As you say, sir,” Jarvis replied.

Tony returned to pointing out the various relevant bits of the alpha anatomy, and Steve watched with rapt interest. Well, watched Tony, anyway. When Tony turned to make eye contact, Steve tried his best to look interested, though he was really only concerned with Tony’s response when discussing the alpha anatomy. Was Tony interested? Is that what Tony liked? Tony prodded at the model’s penis. It was noticeably the largest genitalia out of all six models on display, but Steve was not counting the breasts of the omega female (they seemed disproportionately large, and Steve had to wonder if they were truly to scale). Steve knew his own cock was larger than the one on the model, so maybe it was average.

“Are all the models to scale, Tony?” Steve asked, readjusting himself on his stool. 

“For the most part,” Tony said honestly, “though I embellished a little with the alpha male because why not. He’s at the larger end of the spectrum, but an omega can dream. So, yeah, don’t feel bad if you don’t quite measure up. Don’t let this guy intimidate you.”

Tony clapped the alpha model on the shoulder in a gesture so familiar that Steve felt a zing of involuntary jealousy. That was until Steve noticed that, for all Tony’s bravado about being a playboy and attempting to act as if he was a master of sex, the omega’s cheeks were slightly red. Steve was so pleased he had a difficult time suppressing his smirk, and he was not sure that he was altogether successful.

“Oh, I’m not worried, Tony.” Steve said calmly. Tony blushed even harder.


	3. Tony and Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GRATUITOUS SCENTING.  
> This is where I earn my 'Filth' tag.  
> And there's just a little sprinkle of dirty talk on top. For seasoning!  
> You have been warned.

Tony did not know what to do. Steve was not paying attention.

Steve had seemed to lose interest in the models after Tony had moved on from the alphas to the betas and Tony had no idea how to recapture his attention. As soon as Tony had moved on to the female alpha model, Steve’s interest had gradually waned. Tony had been explaining the male beta’s distinctive anatomy when he had noticed Steve was not really paying attention. Oh, the alpha was good at faking it, but Tony had not become a multi-billionaire by happenstance. His ability to suss out people who were not being genuine was one of his particular skills.

Steve wondered if Tony knew that his scent was spiking. The man smelled delicious. He had bent in front of the female beta model to remove a section of skin and point out the internal structure of one of the mammary glands. Steve was considering whether he could ask Tony to come a little closer or get up himself to further inspect the piece, anything that would get Tony nearer to him.

Tony was so nervous his forehead was beginning to bead with sweat. It was not easy to calmly talk about sex and genitals with the world’s best alpha staring at him. And Steve was staring hard enough that Tony wondered if Cap was seeing straight through him. Tony was sure that his glands were working overtime, trying to draw Steve in, though Steve had never previously shown one bit of interest. Tony almost wished his hormones were people so that he could try to reason with them, or maybe even buy them off. _Anything_ to get out of this awkward situation where the full attention of the alpha of his dreams was riveted on him as he leaked into his briefs. It was the worst thing ever.

Or perhaps, it was not quite the worst thing, ever. That would be if Tony used his overcompensating level of pheromones in order to lure Steve into bed. It would definitely have been a one-night stand though, and Tony wouldn’t want to ruin what he had with Steve. Would that really be the worst, though? No, the worst thing would have been if Tony _tried_ to lure Steve in with his pheromones and it didn’t work, which would ruin their relationship, Steve would move out, Tony would never see him again, etcetera—all without the consolation prize of getting a taste of Steve Rogers divine alpha cock first. He was not proud of the thoughts going through his head, okay, but he was pragmatic. He knew Steve’s consent in this situation would be dubious at best, which made Steve all the more likely to hate Tony after he came back to his senses. Tony decided it would be best to keep it in his pants.

Steve noticed how nervous and twitchy Tony was getting. The omega was sweating, which was honestly quite the feat in the cool room and only made Tony’s scent stronger. Tony’s hand had gripped onto his pointer stick so hard that all the color had been squeezed from his knuckles. He was looking everywhere but at Steve, which Steve knew was a sign. Tony was about to run. Steve was not going to let that happen.

“Um, actually I think that’s about all of the important parts, unless you have specific questions, Steve. So thanks for sitting through that and I hope you learned a lot—”

“Well, you’ve only done the alphas and betas. I really wanted to hear about the omegas.” Steve caught himself. He could not come off as too commanding. He needed Tony to think he still held the reins, here. Steve continued in a softer, more hesitant voice. “That is… that’s what I like, so… I was thinking that might be the most useful?”

Tony shifted from one foot to the other and thought about what Steve had said, then he stopped because the movement had elicited an unpleasant squishy feeling. He hoped Steve had not heard it. The guy had a point; they were almost finished. Still, Tony was good at arguing for his own interests, even when they were illogical. Tony opened his mouth and took a breath to do just that when he saw Steve’s hangdog expression. That was the opposite of how he had intended Steve to feel. From the very beginning of this exercise he had only wanted to use knowledge to enrich Steve’s life, and Tony did not think his friend was looking very enriched right now.

“Yeah, you’re totally right, Steve. You’ve got to finish what you start and I, as a paragon of society, never leave a sandwich half-eaten. Let’s see here.” Tony went to stand next between the male and female omega anatomical models. He raised his wooden stick but then hesitated.

Steve compared Tony’s height and build to that of the male omega model. The model was naked, so obviously took up less space because of that, but there was a vast difference between it and Tony. The female omega was even tinier. Steve knew from his own experiences that the male and female models were actually average, as Tony had said, around 5”5’ and 5”0’ respectively. They were way too small and looked too delicate to take a big alpha like Steve. Even if they could, Steve would have had to worry about hurting them every time he got a little needy, a little rough. Female omegas tended to have a bit more meat on their bones. The model reflected that, but Steve preferred male omegas and on average they were unfortunately practically waif-like. Not Tony, though. If Steve hazarded a guess, he would say that Tony was 5”8’ or 5”9’, and definitely had a sturdy build; the Avengers trained hard, after all. Steve could see it in his mind’s eye: Tony turned to his side, leaning one shoulder against the wall, one of those sturdy hips cocked to one side and a baby—their baby—perched on his hip, babbling and happy. Steve’s mouth watered at the thought.

Tony hated his decision to stand next to the omega models the moment that he had done it. They were so small, everything that an omega should be, according to… well… everyone’s standard of beauty. Tony stood a full head above the little female one, and he had always known that he was not nearly as fine-boned as most male omegas were. He had been much less muscular as a youth but even then, Tony had been lanky and awkward, not svelte or elegant. The crazy thing about it was that these models were _average_ , which meant there were real omegas out there even smaller and slighter. Tony decided he would not focus on that anymore. It would only depress him. Tony knew he was not typically what an alpha would look for, even if he had never had a problem convincing them to come home with him for a one night, no-pajamas pajama party. Steve, who could have his pick of omegas, definitely would not be interested.

Tony started in on the same in-depth explanation that he had afforded the other models. Steve noticed a grimace pulling Tony’s lips back but was not sure what to make of it. Steve was actually listening to Tony this time, not only staring at him, though whether that would be his victory or his downfall was anyone’s guess. His omega had slipped the undercarriage of the female omega out and had run his dexterous fingers all over it while pointing out the vulva and… other things. Steve was trying to listen, but Tony kept going on and on about heats and Steve figured that even the most prudish alpha’s imagination would be running wild at this beautiful omega going over all his ins-and-outs in detail. Steve just hoped that Tony didn’t, that he wouldn’t—but of course he was doing it now. Tony had bent over to slide out the male omega’s anal tract and was poking a finger through the omega’s internal (well, not any more) vaginal opening and using words like “mount” and “gaping” and Steve… just… could not stop imagining those words in relation to Tony. Would Tony like to be mounted, or did he prefer to be the one doing the riding? 

“—may experience involuntary relaxation of the external sphincter and inability to contract once their heat starts,” Tony was saying.

Steve knew what gaping was. In his army days, other alpha soldiers had waxed poetic about the myth of gaping omegas. Every soldier claimed they had one, or knew one, or knew someone who had one. Steve wondered if Tony gaped during heat. Would all his muscles relax, unable to keep anything out and unable to stop the slick from gushing freely down his legs even if Tony wanted to, wide and wet and open and greedy for Steve, for his knot, which was the only thing that could stop the leaking and plug him up tight? Steve really could not take it anymore. He lost the battle with his hardening cock and it quickly began tenting his pants, which he cursed for having no give.

Tony saw Steve fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. Of course, he was boring Steve. Tony mentally chastised himself, a bit exasperated at himself for being so oblivious. Just because Tony could get lost in the science of even his own body did not mean that Steve would be even half as interested in the minutiae of the omega anal tract. If Steve was not engaged in what Tony was teaching him, he could not expect his friend to learn anything. Tony considered that the lesson might benefit if he shared an anecdote or two about his personal experiences.

In particular, there had been one time when Tony had been out at a function. An omega there had unexpectedly gone into heat and triggered a sympathetic heat in Tony, who had not noticed what was happening until it was too late. The nearest alpha had dragged Tony into a broom closet and ravished him, then left the closet saying that he was going to grab them something to drink and freshen up with. It had taken about 20 minutes for Tony to realize the alpha was not coming back, which was unfortunate since that meant he had to emerge from the closet and go back into the ballroom sans pants. Tony chuckled at the memory, too wrapped up in reminiscing to realize that he was the only one.

A subsonic growl rumbled through Steve’s chest at the thought of anyone using Tony for his body, then discarding him, abandoning him when the omega was in need. Any alpha who looked at Tony and was not immediately struck by how much Tony should be cherished was not a real alpha in Steve’s book. Steve tried to rein in his response. The future had made a lot of changes, Tony called them “advancements”, but Steve wasn’t sure. Not of all of them, surely. Some of the changes seemed pretty backwards. Still, Steve had never liked seeing the ‘pushy, primordial, feral alpha’ stereotype brought to life, and he had never had a problem suppressing any of his urges back before the ice. Alphas who could not control themselves should not be around the general populace, especially omegas, who were typically the smallest of the sexes. Just thinking of another alpha touching Tony with anything but reverence got Steve’s back up and made him itch to punch something. Steve needed to move this plan along before he was forced to excuse himself. 

“I’ve always had trouble talking to omegas,” Steve said in the middle of Tony’s diatribe about female omega mammary glands. “They’re always so pretty and I just get so nervous, too nervous to speak to them.”

The statement was a punch to Tony’s gut. It hit him so hard that he almost reacted physically. Tony knew that he was not a pretty omega: debonair at the best of times, but not pretty. Those kinds of omegas were blessed with dainty bodies and dainty features, small hands and big boobs or pretty pink-tipped cocks. So, that was what Steve liked, then. Tony had been trying to figure out Steve’s preferences for months, and now that he knew, Tony should be happy. That was what he would normally call a success. Hooray. But, it didn’t feel like a hooray. It did not feel like a success. It felt like the last nail had been hammered into the coffin, and all Tony’s hopes that Steve might ever consider being something more-than-friends with Tony had died. The realization killed Tony’s low-grade arousal and cleared his head a bit.

“Ah, okay, Stevie. If that’s really the case… since that’s the case, maybe I can help you with that. Why don’t you come up here in front of… Henry, here,” Tony thought up a name for the male omega model on the fly. Steve had not even spared more than a glance at the model of the female omega, so Tony made an educated guess that it was not to his friend’s taste, “and show me what you got, hot stuff.”

Tony backed away from the models to give Steve space to approach. Tony was ready to hear his alpha try to chat up another omega and give him pointers on how to do it successfully. Totally.

Wait, no, Steve was not his alpha. Never his alpha. Tony had to get that thought through his head. Maybe his heart needed to be stomped on a few more times, and then it would get the memo. Surprisingly, that thought depressed Tony even more.

Steve slid off of his seat and walked up to the model. Steve was pleased that everything was going to plan. He was not a smooth-talker, not at all, but since he was not completely inept he knew he needed to play up his awkwardness in order to get Tony where Steve wanted him.

“Uh, hey there, H-Henry…” Steve tried, hoping he was not overdoing it. “Um, yeah. I’m Steve.”

Steve offered his hand to Henry to shake. Since Henry was an inanimate model, it continued to stand there and did not reach out its own hand.

“Uh. Steve.” Tony interjected, taking a few quick strides so that he stood by Steve. His friend could not really be _this_ bad, could he? No one was _this_ bad. 

But Steve Rogers was this bad.

Tony watched Steve try a few more times before coming back over to make adjustments, suppressing a sigh.

“Why don’t you get a little closer, Steve? Six feet away is kinda… far.” Tony said, placing a hand on Steve’s back and pushing him a few feet closer to the model he was supposed to be flirting with.

Poor Steve, Tony thought. 

Steve gulped audibly and squared his shoulders. He turned to Tony.

“I think one of the reasons that I’m so nervous is because I’m not even certain what effects the Super Serum had on my mating pheromones. I don’t know if I will even be able to interact with an omega the way an alpha usually would. Should.” Steve said.

Tony thought that was hilarious, since Tony was the #1 victim of Steve’s pheromones acting on an omega just they way they should, or even better than they should. This was not about Tony, though. It was about Steve gaining confidence to flirt with a cute omega that he liked, Tony told himself. If he mentioned his own affected biology, he would just alienate Steve. That was not the goal of this exercise.

“Okay, I can see that. There’s no better way to check that than to try it in action.” Tony stated with false bravado. “Why don’t you try scenting him? I’ll go stand over there, give you two some privacy.”

Steve tried not to look over at where Tony was standing, just inside of his peripheral vision. Steve inched closer to the omega model and rubbed his wrist over where a real omega’s primary scent gland would be. For once in the past few minutes, his awkwardness was not a ruse. Steve was certain there was no alpha in their right mind—or out of it, honestly—who would be able to scent this piece of plastic while Tony was standing a few feet away, _a real omega_ smelling ripe and perfect. Smelling like he needed Steve to claim him.

“Ugggggh… it’s so awkward…” Tony muttered under his breath, probably unaware that Steve, with his enhanced auditory senses, could hear him. Steve readily stepped away when Tony came over and tugged on his arm.

“Hmm… so this isn’t working. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you had a hard time, I can see that…” Tony brightened at a sudden thought, “Has there ever been an omega you felt comfortable talking to?”

“Yes, of course,” Steve said.

“I mean, not a relative,” Tony clarified.

“Yes, Tony,” Steve repeated, sounding a little peeved by the question.

‘Oh,’ Tony thought, ‘what would an omega have to be like to grab the attention of the great Steve Rogers? Probably perfect. Probably nothing like… me.’

And… Tony had depressed himself and disappointed himself all over again. He took a deep breath to gather his wits and try to suppress his reaction.

‘We said we weren’t doing this,’ Tony scolded his thoughts. How many times could a guy have an arrow shot through his heart before it really stopped beating? Even though Tony had come to terms with the facts, thinking these kinds of thoughts—how Steve would never want him, how Steve wanted someone else—would probably always have the power to hurt him.

“Okay well then,” Tony continued, trying not to let his feelings show on his face, “pretend the model is that omega and go from there. And… action!”

Steve tried it again but stepped back after a few moments. Then he tried again. 

“Uh, hey there, T—” Steve cut off and darted a fleeting glance in Tony’s direction. Tony thought he was cute with cheeks as red as apples, but it was not helping them get through this. 

‘If there is any hope left in the world,’ Tony sent a prayer into the ether, ‘please find us here, in The Red Room of Pain. Please and thank you.’

Tony watched as Steve made an aborted move to scent the omega’s neck again, then he leaned down and put a hesitant arm around the anatomical model’s waist.

“I don’t know, Tony, it’s just so small. It doesn’t feel right.” Steve made his voice plaintive as he withdrew his arm. He took half a step back and subjected the model to a perplexed stare. Steve resisted the urge to glance at Tony. That action would not fit in the character he was playing.

Tony, for his part, had had his fill of watching Steve scent that fake omega. It was too easy by half to imagine Tony in its place, Steve leaning down to wrap a muscled arm around Tony’s waist, leaning in to scent him—

Damn, Tony had thought he had this slick problem under control by now!

“I can’t, I just can’t do it, Tony!” Steve cried in the next moment, looking frustrated and quickly taking a couple steps back from the model. It rocked on its stand so dramatically that Steve thought it might actually fall over. He was unsure whether letting it do so would help his cause. Tony already seemed pretty convinced. “It’s so strange to be imagining its you when I know you’re standing right next to me!”

Tony was shocked at Steve’s words, “Imagining… what? You were imagining me?”

Okay, Tony tried to think of an appropriate response to the shock of the century but his mind was not cooperating. Why in the world would Steve be thinking of him?

Then Tony remembered that he had told Steve to think of someone he could feel comfortable with, which did not necessarily mean someone he was attracted to. Tony felt grateful that his friend was at least one if it could not be the other.

“What if… Can I… is it alright if I try it with you?” Steve asked, watching Tony’s reaction closely. This was when the real game would start. All of Steve’s plans hinged on Tony allowing him this one step closer.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Tony dithered. Inside, he was balking at the idea of interacting with Steve that way. It already hurt that Tony did not have a chance with the alpha he wanted. Going through the motions would just be like rubbing salt in a wound.

“You’re the only person I trust with this, Tony.” Steve said quietly, chin tipped downward and gaze on Tony’s shoes. “My SHIELD-appointed psychiatrist is always digging, but I don’t trust her with this. If you and I can’t work through this, I don’t know what I’ll do. Not that I mean to put any pressure on you, Tony. I know it isn’t your responsibility, and you’ve already been such a great friend.”

Steve trailed off into silence. Even with Steve, Tony usually maintained his unaffected mask. Even while making decisions that were difficult, the genius generally never let it show on his face. Watching the various emotions play across Tony’s features was fascinating, Steve thought, and his face was so expressive it was no wonder Tony usually tried to suppress it. Tony’s conflicting feelings were so obvious that it was almost as if Steve could read his thoughts.

What Steve was suggesting had the potential to go very, very wrong, Tony knew. It was tempting to be in such close proximity with his alpha. It always was, and with the hair trigger Tony’s own pheromone receptors had these days, it was pretty much asking for trouble. Still, it would take a stronger man than Tony to say no to his friend as he practically begged. And that’s what Steve was, Tony’s _friend_ , not his lover or his mate. Tony could not let himself forget that.

Steve turned to face Tony fully for the first time since he had stood up from his chair, and Tony immediately saw something that alarmed him. Steve was hard. So hard. The fabric at the front of the alpha’s pants was pulled so taut, Tony was sure Steve was uncomfortable. He was probably in pain, Tony considered. He could pretty clearly see the outline of Steve’s massive erection, and Tony wondered how much pressure the organ had to be under to be outlined so starkly, and how long poor Steve had been suffering like that. If Tony had to guess, he would say it was about the width of his wrist, if not wider.

‘Friend,’ Tony had to remind himself, ‘he’s your friend.’ Steve, that was. Not his… not Little Steve. Tony should not be thinking about Steve’s junk.

Steve followed Tony’s gaze and immediately knew what had caught Tony’s attention. Steve was so often half-hard around Tony that he had forgotten to hide it. It was so normal for Steve that he was used to working through it as if nothing had happened, and in this case that tendency had shot him in the foot. He was used to ignoring it, yes, but Tony was not. Steve had to make sure that he did not scare Tony off.

Awkward, Steve thought, inept. He fell back on his contingency plan. It had yet to fail him. 

“Hey, soldier,” Steve said, voice wavering with faux uncertainty and embarrassment, but very real wariness, “My eyes are up here.”

‘It's not the eyes on your face I want to see,’ Tony thought before he could restrain himself, then shook himself out of his reverie. 

Tony owed his friend better than that, and it was not as if Tony had never been caught with an inconvenient erection himself. He knew what Steve was going through, and Steve had already told him that he was not sure how his hormones would react around an omega. He had probably had an involuntary reaction to his earlier thoughts about that cute omega he liked—no, wait, that was me, his friend, not someone he’s interested in—or Henry the hypothetical average omega, then. Tony could move past this.

He really could… any moment now.

Steve knew Tony was unaware that he had said the stuff about his eyes out loud, so he did not mention it to Tony. He was balancing on the high wire with his mate already. Still, Steve could not help but wonder which eye, exactly, Tony had been talking about, the opening at the end of Steve's cock or Steve’s asshole. Steve had not ever considered that he might like to be penetrated that way, but Steve thought he would not mind so much as long as it was Tony penetrating him. Truly, almost any method of being close to his omega was acceptable to Steve.

“Fine, okay, let’s try it,” Tony said. 

It took a moment for Steve’s mind to detach from his fantasy and rejoin reality, but when it did Steve almost thought he was still fantasizing. A few long, silent seconds passed, with Tony regarding Steve with an expectant expression. It took Steve longer than normal to comprehend the situation but when Steve realized he had, in fact, heard Tony correctly, he snapped into action.

Steve closed the space between him and Tony in two lightning fast strides, shortening the distance from feet to mere inches. He raised both hands and settled them on Tony’s arms hesitantly. Although they were close now, Steve hunched a bit at the waist, Tony noticed, effectively keeping his tumescence from touching Tony in any way. Considerate of him, Tony thought dully, but soon focused back on the matter at hand.

Which was that Steve had his hands on Tony. Steve leaned in so close that Tony could smell him now, not his pheromones but the clean scent of his soap or aftershave. It was light and fresh, and Tony approved. He also approved of the way Steve cupped the base of his skull, directing Tony’s head to the side to expose his neck. Tony’s scent gland was just beneath the skin of the base and, sure enough, Steve bent further and gently rubbed his chiseled jaw against Tony’s neck. His alpha was scenting him! All the nerves in Tony’s body were suddenly alight with anticipation and his breath stuttered. A moan bubbled up in his throat and he barely suppressed it. 

God, this was going to be a train wreck. How had Tony ever thought he would be able to do this? Steve may not be interested in him, but Tony knew he was more than interested in Steve. He could feel the wetness leaking into his underwear again and hoped this trial would be over quickly so that he could escape to his room for a clean-up on aisle six. 

Steve tried not to lose himself in Tony. All that warm, fragrant, tanned skin beneath Steve’s hands and the fact that Tony had given him free reign of it… well, kinda. It was heady. Tony always smelled good, even after a thorough training session with the team, coated in his sweat and a concentrated amount of his own musk. This was different, though. Steve had never been this close to Tony for so long a period before. In the heat of battle, sure, but that was usually—thankfully—with Tony armored up and focused on defeating their mutual foes. This quiet moment with Tony was not even similar to that scenario. Tony was soft and pliant under Steve’s cradling hands, his scent full and potent in Steve’s nose, and his skin pleasantly warm beneath Steve’s cheek where he could feel Tony’s pulse beating faster than normal. Maybe Tony was psyching himself up to finally make a move?

Steve’s arm tightened around Tony’s waist and drew the omega even closer. Steve wanted Tony, wanted him as close as possible, skin to skin. Tony’s scent was overwhelming and he needed to be claimed.

Unconsciously responding to his desires, Steve’s arm got heavier on Tony’s back. He began putting pressure on Tony’s waist, trying to push him down, under Steve so that Steve could loom over him and have the omega vulnerable beneath him. Steve drew away slightly. He had lined their bodies in a way that his erection was just above Tony’s hip. They were so close now, and Steve closed the final distance, pressing his body to Tony’s from knee to chest.

Tony stiffened in his arms.

Steve drew away slightly. Ah, maybe that had been too fast. Still, his omega needed to get used to the touch of Steve’s body against his and the pleasure of the pressure of Tony’s body against his cloth-covered cock had been exquisite. He took in a breath and waited a few moments. Steve pressed in again, closing the distance and rubbing himself more firmly against Tony’s hip. 

Tony tensed again. Steve pulled away quickly when he felt Tony raise his arms, since it was likely to push Steve away.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Tony,” Steve exclaimed. “I got lost there for a bit. You just smell so good… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Steve had made him uncomfortable in one of the sexiest ways possible, Tony thought. It was already difficult distancing himself with Steve wrapped all around him, as he had known it would be. To then have the alpha pressed against him intimately, his arousal still prominent enough to be felt through multiple layers of fabric… it was all Tony could do not to start stripping off his clothes and begging Steve. He had needed some distance between them to let the situation cool down some. At this point, Tony was sure that his briefs were so wet that they were fireproof. Then Steve mentioned how nice Tony smelled and sent a spike of dread through him. If they went much farther than this, could he really say he had Steve’s consent?

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said slowly, a little wary of Tony’s continued silence, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You okay?”

“Yeah… I’m fine, buddy. I’m not worried about me. Don’t you worry about me.” Tony nodded, the movement stilted. He was fine, but was unsure if he was doing the right thing by letting this continue. 

“Okay, well, um, as long as you’re alright to continue, I have to say it's a little difficult getting used to this while facing you.” Steve bobbed his head demurely. “I just feel, I don’t know… a little self-conscious? Every time I see your face I get all nervous and then I get distracted. All I can think of is whether I’m doing any of this right. Would it be alright if I moved around to the back, I mean, to scent you?”

Tony looked up into Steve’s face at that, and Steve felt he had better backtrack. It had been a pretty obvious ploy, after all. Steve threw up his hands in surrender, to seem non-threatening. 

“Just for practice!” Steve assured. Steve knew that if he could get Tony to agree, it would be smooth sailing from there.

“Umm…” Tony hemmed.

Tony was apprehensive, but Steve still seemed to be pretty much in his right mind. Tony’s eyes scanned Steve’s face. His eyes looked clear and alert, and he seemed all there even if his color was pretty high. Tony mentally conceded that Steve was probably fine. And after all, it was not as if he was really doing this _to Tony_ , in his mind. As Steve had said, it was just practice for when Steve found an omega that he actually liked. Tony would just have to get this over with as quickly as possible, so that he can remove himself from the situation, and keep tighter control of his reactions in the meantime. Tony did not trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

Steve moved swiftly around to Tony’s back and out of his sight. Not a moment later, he felt Steve taking him into his arms again.

Steve smiled as he carefully enfolded his omega in his arms. This was the best place he could ever imagine being, other than sheltered in Tony’s arms, and maybe in an actual bed. Since he was where Tony could not see his face, Steve took a moment to look over to the far side of the room. He appraised the bed. It looked fine, clean at least. He would prefer something downy and soft to cushion his omega in, but he could not tell how firm the bed was just from looking. 

Steve pressed against Tony's back from chest to hip and grit his teeth in pleasure. It felt so good. It was not just the pressure, though that was very nice on its own. It was also knowing that he was experiencing this pleasure with the one he loved, with Tony. He knew that this was his chance to lock Tony down, and even if there might be other chances in the future, he did not want to let this one go to waste. He wanted his omega, now. Steve planted his face in Tony's neck and struggled not to groan at the scent there.

Tony knew Steve could not possibly realize that his cock was pressing into Tony's back (his ass, really). The guy had just freaked out about it a few seconds ago. What was Tony supposed to do? This entire exercise was about getting Steve comfortable with an omega and making sure the both of them would respond well even with Steve’s altered body. Scientifically, the experiment had so far been successful. Any scientist would want to continue, get further results. If Tony brought up the fact that he could feel Not-So-Little Steve pressing into his ass (his back, Tony tried to convince himself, his back) then it would only embarrass Steve and the experiment would only be partially complete. Tony did not want to say anything to alienate his friend. It was fine, Tony decided, though he regretted his decision to wear khakis that day. Now he could only pray that his slick wouldn't leak through his pants. There would be no way to explain away that kind of wet spot.

Steve rubbed his face across the line of flesh where Tony’s neck met his shoulders. The skin was fragrant there since it was so close to Tony’s scent gland, and Steve had no problem mixing a bit of his own scent in, too. He migrated to the corner of his mate’s neck, dragging the tip of his nose across Tony’s flushed skin, and pressed into the skin over his gland. Tony's scent was the strongest there and Steve laved it with his tongue. He couldn't help the moan that escaped him at the taste, and tightened his grip on Tony, giving an involuntary thrust against Tony's bottom.

Tony jerked when Steve licked him. When he felt Steve start grinding on him, though, he hastily pushed out of Steve's arms. 

“Wait! Steve, stop! You’re not thinking straight,” Tony reluctantly put some distance between himself and Steve. He about gave himself whiplash since Steve had an iron grip on his wrist and had effectively tethered Tony. “My pheromones are muddling your head. It’s me, Tony, your friend, not your omega. You’re not… you’re really not thinking straight. If you were, you wouldn’t be doing this!”

Steve cursed his loss of control but couldn't really blame himself. Tony was everything Steve had ever wanted in an omega and to have him finally in his arms, where Steve had wanted him for so long, had brought up feelings and desires too heady to suppress. He flinched when Tony explicitly said that he was not Steve’s omega, but it was so minute that he doubted Tony saw it. 

‘Not yet,’ Steve thought. ‘But you will be.’

Steve allowed Tony some space but kept a tight grip on his wrist. His omega wasn't going anywhere. Steve knew he had to convince Tony to stay; Steve would never force him. But Tony could not leave. 

“That’s just not true.” Steve said, voice firm with no space for argument. He caught Tony’s gaze and held it, trying to convey the sincerity of his next words. “I’ve always liked you, Tony. I’ve always been attracted to you, at least, and ever since I got to know you I’ve become even more attracted to you. You’re a charming man and… a great friend, Tony. I couldn’t imagine my first time being with anyone else.”

Tony's brain short-circuited. 

When it came back online, Steve's face was so close to his, those blue eyes big and round with concern. Tony tried to take a step away from Steve, only to find that the fist he had wrapped around Tony’s wrist had not loosened at all. He was forced to consider his options without any personal space, looking into Steve’s soulful eyes, which had made it difficult to breathe, let alone think. Tony also had to consider the possibility that Steve was not the only one affected by the pheromone cocktail wafting through the air. It was likely that Tony’s judgement might have also been impaired. Still…

Tony did have experience. He knew his way around alphas, betas, and omegas. He knew what felt good, regardless of gender or secondgender, and he could give Steve some hands-on advice about how to truly satisfy an omega. Most importantly, Steve was safe here, with him; Tony would never hurt him. Tony knew he was the last person people would call ‘selfless’, but he could put Steve first in this. He could make Steve’s first time a good experience. He looked into Steve’s cajoling eyes and breathed in his beguiling scent.

Tony could be good for Steve.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

The grin that broke over Steve’s face was as bright as the sun coming from behind clouds. Before Tony could truly recover from that dazzler, Steve’s lips had sealed over his. Steve’s mouth was hot and moist on Tony’s, so soft and dominating. 

So this was how Steve was when he was filled with passion? Hot and dominating. And pushy.

Tony pulled away from the kiss, and Steve could not figure out why. It shocked Steve. Why was his omega trying to get away? Tony had stepped back out of his embrace and turned in the direction of the wall rack before Steve could shake off his surprise, but Steve did not let him go far. He caught up to Tony, threw an arm around his waist, and pulled him back against him. Tony could not escape when he was bound this way, and pressing his omega tightly against him calmed Steve’s alarmed inner alpha instincts. 

“Hey, buddy,” Tony said soothingly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to get some lube from the drawer, see?”

Tony had hoped to wipe that disgruntled expression from Steve’s face, but it appeared he would have to work harder.

“I thought you said omegas can get wet outside of heat?” Steve asked. “What do we need lube for? You’re wet.”

‘He sees you as an omega,’ a silly voice crooned in Tony’s thoughts. ‘He expects you to be slick for him.’ Of course Steve knew he was an omega, Tony thought in response, and just because the guy had never mentioned it before today and had never tried to treat him like a stereotypical omega did not mean that Steve was unaware of Tony’s gender. There was no reason for Tony to be shocked about it.

Tony chose to take Steve’s last statement as a question. He stepped out of Steve’s loosened grip and reached a hand in the back of his underwear to check. If Tony thought about the certainty with which Steve had mentioned his slick right now, then he would have to question how certain Steve had been about how slick he was at other times, and Steve knowing that Tony walked around wet 24/7 because of him—it didn’t bear thinking about, so Tony forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. Literally.

Yeah, Steve had been right. Tony had produced so much slick that he wasn’t sure what to call this. Wet? Dripping? Drenched? Niagara Falls?

“Turns out you’re right, Stevie,” Tony confirmed, trying to ignore how hot his cheeks felt and avoid Steve’s expectant gaze. “I’m already sufficiently slick so we won’t need lube this time. In the future, though, with your other partners—omega or otherwise—you need to check to make sure they're wet enough before penetrating them. You don’t want to hurt them.”

‘Yeah, right,’ Steve thought incredulously, and snorted internally, though he simply nodded in acceptance of Tony’s words so that they could continue. ‘There won't be any other partners.’

Steve took hold of the hem of his shirt and easily pulled it over his head. He watched Tony’s eyes flit hungrily across his chest. Steve absently threw his shirt to the floor and advanced on Tony, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. 

Tony had previously had many opportunities to watch the way Steve moved. It still entranced him every time. This instance was no different. His movements were fluid and purposeful, like a big cat. Tony took a few steps forward to meet Steve and Steve wrapped his arms around him again, one big hand on his lower back and the other cupping the back of Tony's head. Steve's long fingers slid into Tony's hair and, his palm moved to cradle the side of Tony's face.

Steve's lips covered Tony’s again, as warm and soft as the first time. Tony leaned into Steve, moving his hands to Steve’s chest and groping him like he had the alpha model earlier. The alpha’s skin was so hot that the air around them felt practically steamy. Steve’s hand began stroking up and down Tony’s back, caressing Tony and bringing him closer. 

Tony licked at Steve’s mouth until the seam of his lips parted. Tony only needed that little bit to slide his tongue into Steve’s mouth, massaging Steve’s tongue with his own. Although he had been dominating when it came to positioning Tony’s body, it seemed that Steve was content to let Tony take the lead here, and Tony’s arms lowered to Steve’s sides, hands warm on Steve’s ribs. Tony pulled his tongue back some so that he could suck Steve’s tongue into his own mouth.

‘You’re in my territory now,’ Tony thought with a smirk, and opened his eyes to see Steve’s expression. He almost jumped when he noticed Steve’s eyes were open, too, staring straight into his. He didn’t look blissed out, so Tony resolved to work harder.

Tony lowered his hand to Steve’s ass cheek and gave the mound a squeeze. In a blur, Tony’s back hit the wall next to the rack, knocking the breath out of him, and Steve was pressed so close into him that Tony couldn’t get any air. He wedged a hand between their chests to get Steve to back off a bit. Steve had lifted Tony in his arms, and had looped one arm beneath Tony’s thighs in order to keep him there, while the other had moved to cradle the back of Tony’s head and stop it from cracking against the wall.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve was moaning ardently, moving against him sinuously. “Touch me, Tony, please…”

Most alphas did not beg, Tony’s addled brain recalled that in the midst of Steve’s mouth working its way down his neck. Steve did not know those prejudices yet, Tony reminded himself. It was up to him to teach Steve right. Tony wound his hands into Steve’s hair and pushed his hard cock against Steve’s washboard abs. Everything was so intense with Steve, Tony felt that even if they never moved beyond kissing he was going to come to his end pretty soon.

“The desk,” Tony hissed out, as Steve gave him a nipping kiss on the side of his neck. “Careful or you’ll leave a hickey.”

A hickey should be the least of Tony’s concerns, Steve thought, carrying Tony over to his Cherrywood desk and depositing him on it. He planned to place a mark on Tony’s neck that would never fade.

Tony slid back a bit further in order to settle himself and Steve took a moment to remove Tony’s shoes and then knelt to remove his own. When he stood back up. Tony hooked a couple of fingers in his belt loop and reeled Steve in between his spread legs. He looped an arm around Steve’s neck and brought him in for another kiss. The kiss to his mouth was a short, simple thing, but Tony’s mouth soon slid to the side and kissed the corner of Steve’s lips. He pressed heated, sucking kisses down Steve’s jaw and neck, then attached like a leech to Steve’s scent gland and clung like a limpet. Steve moaned loud enough he could have sworn he felt the walls of the room shake. He had not noticed that Tony’s clever hand had loosened his belt from his waist and pulled it through his belt loops until he heard the sound of the belt buckle hitting the carpeted floor. Steve did feel it when Tony began unbuttoning his pants since he was paying attention, but then Tony moaned.

“Steve,” Tony pulled back and looked up into Steve’s eyes, pleading. Steve had not noticed before, but Tony had gotten a string of anal beads from the rack a d had it tangled around his hand. The image of Tony thumbing the rosary beads and saying Steve’s name like a prayer was too much for Steve, and his breath caught in his throat.

Steve pulled back. Now Steve was mostly naked and Tony was entirely clothed except for his shoes. That was unacceptable. Starting at Tony’s waist, Steve slid his hands up Tony’s sides, catching the hem of his shirt and dragging it up and over Tony’s head. The arc reactor’s unveiled glow shone bright, illuminating Tony even better than the overhead lights. Steve was entranced with all the golden skin he had uncovered. Even during training, Tony usually kept his shirts on, preferring to remain completely clothed. The expanse of soft skin—very little chest hair, Steve noted—gleamed in the combination of the reactor’s irradiating brilliance and the room's low light. Steve took a moment to run a reverent hand over Tony’s chest, slowing on the upstroke to run a fingertip teasingly over one of Tony's pretty brown nipples. Tony flinched but then pressed into it with a moan.

“Here,” Tony said, pulling back from Steve's neck and pulling Steve's other hand up to his neglected nipple. He showed Steve how to roll the nub between his fingers and Steve watched, riveted on the motions of this little piece of Tony moving and hardening within his grasp.

Tony had never seen such a dark expression on Steve's face, not even in those moments when he appeared detached and stared into the distance like he was not part of the world. His expression was full of possession, and the proprietary way he looked down at Tony's body sent a shiver down Tony's spine. Steve’s gaze dropped further down Tony's body. Tony could tell the moment Steve noticed that Tony had dropped the beads and begun to unbutton and unzip his own pants.

Steve released Tony's nipple only to snatch up his hand. He unfurled the fingers and pressed his nose into Tony's palm. It still smelled of Tony's slick from when he had used his fingers to check his natural lubrication earlier. Steve grunted and pressed deeper into the apex of Tony's thighs. He sucked one of the fingers into his mouth and groaned at the sweet, earthy taste of his omega coating his tongue. 

Tony pressed his free hand firmly to Steve's erection and cupped his alpha through his pants. Steve wrenched Tony's finger out of his mouth and buried his face in the side of Tony's neck, breathing harshly. He was unwilling to release Tony's hand though, and held it aloft, restrained by the wrist and suspended in the air.

Steve wrapped his hand around the side of Tony’s waist. Over Tony’s shoulder, in the slim gap between the waist of Tony’s khakis and the clinging material of his boxers, Steve thought he saw a flash of white lettering. He pulled back from Tony abruptly, pulled Tony off the edge of the desk, and turned his mate around to face it. 

Steve ignored Tony’s confused expression at the abrupt change in position and spoke, voice coming out as a guttural growl. 

“These are coming off,” Steve said in a voice that brooked no argument. He grasped the waistband of Tony’s pants and pulled, exposing Tony’s rear in his soaking wet underwear. The words ‘If You're Reading This, Don't Be Gentle’ were printed in a scrawl across Tony’s bottom. There was a subtle difference in the deepness of the black briefs behind the printed words, the color deeper in the wet sections where Tony’s slick had seeped upwards.

Steve’s breath punched out of him and his mind went blank. He wrenched the briefs down Tony’s legs roughly, them held them aloft to admire them for a moment. Only his omega, really. If Tony wanted rough, that is what he would get. Steve tossed the briefs to the side somewhere and stared at the golden moon of his omega’s round ass. The scent was uncovered, pure and unfiltered now, and Steve laid a heavy hand between Tony’s shoulders and pushed him down until Tony’s chest lay flat on the table. Tony arched his ass up in the air without having to be told—his omega was so good at this, _so good_ —and Steve placed his left hand on Tony’s ass cheek, pushing it outward and spreading his omega wide enough to see his hole. All of the skin around Tony’s dark, beautiful pucker was slick and shiny. His slick had already leaked in copious amounts down Tony’s balls and the back of his thighs. 

‘Need lube, my ass,’ Steve thought, uncharitably. He didn’t know where his omega had been heading off to earlier, but he sure had not needed any lube, contrary to what Tony had told him. Steve was not letting this omega out of his sight again until he was claimed.

“How do you feel, my omega,” Steve asked, voice even more guttural than before, using his thumb to caress Tony’s pucker. He scooped up a bit of lube with it and pressed it back inside Tony’s hole, only to watch it come trickling out again. “Do you like that?”

“You need to…” Tony’s reedy voice sounded smothered, but that was likely because his chest was pressed so firmly to the desk. “Put your fingers inside me, one at a time. Stretch me out first…”

Tony was suffering. He literally could not breathe. This was supposed to be about Steve, teaching Steve how to please an omega so that he could satisfy his future lovers. Tony could barely concentrate on anything concrete through the haze of pleasure Steve had worked over his body, let alone teach anyone anything. 

Tony barked out a gasp at the feel of Steve’s first finger going in. He whimpered at the second when Steve began stretching him, and openly sobbed at the third. Steve placed his other hand on Tony’s flank, asked him a question, probably whether he was “okay” again.

Good. Fucking. God. No, Tony was not okay. Either Steve was somehow a complete virgin with a seriously unfair level of natural aptitude for sex or he was a non-virgin lying liar who _lied_.

“Fuck me,” Tony ordered, at the end of his tether. He looked over his shoulder at Steve, tears running tracks down his face, nose turned up so he could look down it at his alpha, imperious. “Give it… give it to me, Steve… Fucking fuck me right now, or I swear—”

“It’s yours,” Steve huffed, stroking a broad, calloused palm down the smooth golden back of the man beneath him. “Tony, you know it’s yours.”

Steve’s pants hung loose around his waist, his slim hips thick thighs the only thing stopping them from falling down completely. It took barely a push at them before they, and his boxers, were down around his ankles and Steve was stepping out of them.

Steve positioned the tip of his cock against Tony's entrance and carefully pushed in. He splayed a hand over Tony's lower back to steady the omega as he entered him. At first, the ring of Tony's anus was tight around Steve, and then Tony’s channel was tight, too, and everything was soft and hot. Steve leaned over Tony’s back as he pushed in—slowly, gradually, he did not want to hurt his lover—and bottomed out in his mate. 

‘This is where I’m supposed to be,’ the thought came so stark and clearly formed that it surprised even Steve. ‘This is for me and no one else.’

Steve slid his hands underneath Tony’s hips, hauling them up off of the desk and back into the cradle of Steve’s hips. He reached around Tony’s hip and enclosed his smaller omega cock in his long, calloused fingers. Tony flinched back into Steve at the pleasure, taking his alpha even deeper. Steve applied firm pressure in each stroke, working the smaller man’s cock lovingly in his fist. He heard a whimper from Tony, who had raised his face up off the desk and supported his torso on shaky arms.

Tony’s face and ears were red, sweat made his wild hair stick out in wilder spikes around his ears and temples, and his bottom lip looked raw from where he had bitten it between his teeth. Tony’s arms gave out and he collapsed back down to the desk.

“You okay, Tony?” Steve asked, genuine worry in his voice. 

_“Yes,”_ Tony sobbed. Then he came all over Steve’s hand. 

Steve’s hips pistoned harder into Tony at the sight of him, spread out and wrecked, eyes glazed and unfocused with bliss. He released Tony’s spent cock and clutched at his hips as he made love to him.

“How do you feel, Tony?” Steve asked, eyes glued to Tony’s flushed face. His omega was so beautiful. Steve wanted to hear that he had pleased this gorgeous man.

“Hu—” Tony’s words cut as Steve rammed into him, knocking the breath out of him. Tony took a couple seconds to catch his breath and tried again. “H-hurts…”

Steve stopped thrusting immediately. He moved his hands from Tony’s hips to his sides, steadying the swaying omega beneath him. He had hurt Tony? When? Tony was strong, sure, but he was smaller than Steve and so, so precious. How could he have lost himself enough to hurt his mate?

“Bed… let’s go to the bed,” Tony said, words becoming more intelligible as he straightened up on the desk, able to take in proper breaths again. “This desk is so uncomfortable, Steve.”

Steve gazed down at his pouting Tony and all he could feel was relief that he had not hurt him. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Steve replied, breathless from the intensity of the relief he felt. “But you’re okay, right?”

Tony was gingerly backing off of the desk and putting his feet on the ground. Steve could see that there was a stapler remover pressed into the skin of Tony’s chest. Tony unstuck it from his skin with a grimace and rubbed at the tender red spot it left behind. He looked up at Steve, still rubbing his chest.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that? I’ll let you know if anything’s not fine, Steve. I won’t let you hurt me, buddy,” Tony said, smiling, and patted Steve’s chest between his pectorals.

Tony’s eyes left Steve’s relieved face and fell down to where his hand rested on his chest. The man was an Adonis, Tony thought, not for the first time. His eyes followed his hand as he smoothed his fingers down Steve’s chest, then his washboard abs. Tony paused at the trail of hair leading downward, like a trail to danger. The golden hair was thicker and darker here, and Tony took a few moments to massage Steve there, rubbing the hair against the grain.

A moan burst out of Steve’s throat, surprising him much more than it had Tony. Tony seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and what to expect from Steve. Tony’s strong hand continued down, taking Steve’s erection in hand and squeezing. His erection had flagged a bit at the thought that he had hurt his lover, but it was quickly recovering. To have Tony’s hands on him like this, so soon after Steve had thought he’d ruined everything…

Tony found the breath had been knocked out of him _again_ as his back collided with something solid _again_ , courtesy of Steve Rogers, for the second time that day. It was only as the alpha leaned over him, blocking out some of the light from the room, that Tony realized that the background he was viewing over Steve’s shoulder was not the wall, but the ceiling. Steve had deposited—what a generous word, more like slammed—Tony onto the bench that was halfway across the room. It was definitely not the bed, and the right half of Tony’s upper body was hanging over the edge of it, suspended by hopes and dreams and Steve’s hand on his arm.

“Tony,” Steve said almost reverently, smiling brightly down at him. He leaned in to kiss Tony. 

Tony moaned and wrapped both arms around Steve’s neck as he felt Steve’s cock slide back into him. Tony braced one foot on the arm of the bench and threw the other one haphazardly over the back of Steve’s thigh.

Steve’s supporting hand never wavered on Tony’s arm as he fucked into Tony. Tony never felt as if he might fall as Steve thrust into him. He trusted that Steve would never let him hit the ground.

Tony pulled away from the kiss slightly, so that he and Steve were half-kissing and half sharing breath. Tony’s breath hitched every time that Steve drove home, hips slapping lewdly against Tony’s ass. Tony’s orgasm had relaxed his muscles and made him even slicker and Steve, who had moved with relative ease before, practically glided in and out of Tony’s ass now.

Tony nipped at Steve’s bottom lip, which prompted a groan from Steve. He turned his face to the side and rose up over Tony, just a bit, not really enough to pull away. His thrusts began to lose some of their rhythm, and Tony buried his face into Steve’s neck. His scent gland was there, and the scent spiked and changed a tiny bit during orgasm, Tony explained to Steve as he gasped and came inside him. Tony was not sure whether Steve had heard him. Whoops. Tony guessed that Steve’s future omega would miss out on sharing that little experience with Steve.

It was the one bit of vindictiveness Tony would allow himself, he vowed. He would not take anything else away from Steve and whoever ended up being this stunning alpha’s mate if Tony could just have this one thing. 

‘Let this one piece of Steve be mine and only mine,’ Tony begged.

Steve leaned back and this time was Tony’s turn to avert his face. He did not want Steve to catch sight of his dour expression, since he would have a difficult time explaining it—no one who had just come five minutes ago should ever be scowling the way Tony was—and the feelings were still too strong for him to completely wipe them from his countenance just yet.

Steve carefully pulled out of Tony and stood. By the time Steve had looked back down to him and offered Tony a hand up, Tony had wrestled his emotions back under control. 

Steve led the way to the bed. He had maintained his grip on Tony’s hand when he saw that the omega was moving stiffly. Steve hoped he had not hurt Tony, but soon shooed that worry from his mind. Tony could be very stubborn, just like Steve, but he had promised Steve that he would say something if Steve hurt him, and Steve trusted Tony.

Once they had reached the side of the bed, Steve turned down the sheet and then moved aside to let Tony climb in first.

“What are you doing, Steve?” Tony asked, laughing. Steve could not understand why Tony had suddenly begun chuckling, and he looked at Tony with a quizzical expression. Tony leaned over to move the blankets back into place. “We’re not taking a nap, Mountains of Mourne. And you get on, first. I have something I want to show you.”

With one last, lingering look at Tony, as if he could figure out what Tony had planned if he just stared at him long enough, Steve clambered onto the bed.

“To the middle,” Tony directed, pointing helpfully as if he really thought Steve only had two brain cells to rub together and needed even more direction, “lay on your back, there you go.”

Steve kept his eyes on Tony as he settled in the center of the bed. He did not know what Tony had planned. The man looked smug, but that did not tell Steve anything. If Tony tried to leave, Steve would be off of the bed, following him out of the room in a second, but they were both still naked. Even though Tony was adventurous, Steve did not think he would parade through the halls of the Tower butt naked.

Steve did not have to worry. Not long after he had lain back in the bed, Tony was crawling over the edge of the bed. Then, he crawled over Steve. Tony straddled Steve’s lower torso, facing away from Steve, which gave Steve an uninterrupted view of Tony’s tanned back. Tony did not rest his weight there. Instead, Tony moved further down, toward Steve’s groin, and settled over his pelvis. As Tony was sliding down Steve’s body, long trails of slick rubbed from Tony’s inner thighs onto Steve sides. Tony reached beneath him to gather some slick directly from the source.

“Tony!” Steve cried out when Tony unceremoniously gathered his erection and Tony’s own in his hands.

Tony needed two hands to hold both of them in his grasp, and he tried not to notice how diminutive his own cock looked nestled against the monster that belonged to Steve. Steve’s cock had started hardening again as soon as Tony had taken it in hand. Tony’s cock was big for an omega’s, and even a respectable size for a beta. Tony gripped their cocks and had slid his hands up to the head of his own cock before he noticed the problem. Not only was Steve thicker than him, but his cock was significantly longer as well. Estimating, Tony figured Little Steve was about twice as long as his own cock, The Superconductor. Tony could not get them both off like this. This was not going to work.

Tony let out a heavy sigh and, before Steve could ask what the matter was, Tony had reached back and found his entrance, positioned the tip of Steve’s cock there, and sank down on it, all in one smooth movement.

“Ah, ah,” Tony moaned, making little adjustments and shifting back and forth as he worked Steve further inside of him. 

Steve’s hands shot out to Tony’s hips to brace him, though he soon found that Tony did not need it. Tony’s thigh and gluteal muscles contracted as Tony lifted himself, revealing a few inches of the thick base of Steve’s cock glistening with Tony’s juices. Then he slowly sank back down on Steve, pushing a guttural moan up and out of him. God, his sweet, good, perfect omega. Tony was so tight and slick and the pressure from that angle was amazing. Steve’s hips gave a few involuntary thrusts before Steve got control of himself again. It felt too good. If Tony kept doing this, Steve would be coming again soon, and he wanted to see Tony’s face when he did.

“Ton-y,” Steve huffed out as Tony rose up and slammed back down on him again. Steve begged, “Turn a-round. Please.”

Tony bit off his own groan and, in a move that was definitely in the Kama Sutra, supported his weight on his hands, moved both legs to one side of Steve’s waist, and spun around on Steve’s cock until he was facing him. Steve looked up into his omega’s face in awe. Tony gazed down at him, molten brown eyes surrounded by the long, dark fans of his thick eyelashes. Tony was frighteningly good at this. No wonder he acted like an expert every time the subject of sex came up. 

Steve steeled his resolve. There was only one person Tony would be “sleeping with” after this evening, and that was Steve Rogers.

Tony saw the determined expression shutter over Steve’s face, but it still took him by surprise when Steve’s hands grabbed his hips again. Steve’s grip was firm, and he gritted his teeth when he lifted Tony and then slammed him down on his cock. Steve threw his head back, exposing the length of his pale neck to Tony's greedy eyes. There was an obscenely loud slapping sound, but Tony could not be bothered with that. He moaned loud enough to wake the dead, maybe even revive 90’s boy bands. Steve did it again, and again, and again, until Tony felt a wave of sensation rise up in him, warning him of his impending orgasm.

Steve seemed to notice it, too. Suddenly, he surged up and over Tony, rolling him onto his back as he thrust into him. Tony clenched his jaw, pressing his lips together. He had to stay silent or else he might miss some of the truly filthy things that Steve was saying.

“That’s it, that’s my good boy.” Steve growled, his large, scorching hands squeezing Tony’s thighs as he put all of his weight on Tony’s hips, “You’re a good boy, Tony. My perfect omega. You want me to come in you, don’t you? I can see it all over your face. Tell me you want me to put my babies in you.”

Tony could not remain silent any longer, “Yeah… Steve—alpha! Put your babies in me. _Please…_ ”

Tony came with the drawn out plea still on his lips, morphing into an omega croon. Steve’s thrusts became erratic and he gasped Tony’s name as he spilled into him.

“Oh, God, Tony,” Steve gritted out through clenched teeth, eyelids squeezed closed in pleasure.

Then, Steve moved so quickly down towards the bed that, for a second, Tony feared that Steve was going to pass out on top of him. But no, Steve was still conscious and he was burrowing into Tony’s neck. Tony opened his mouth to tell Steve that, as much as Tony loved him, Steve’s sweat-damp face and prickly eyebrows rubbing into the sensitive skin of his neck was not at all a pleasant feeling, when Steve's teeth sank into his neck.

It was so unexpected—and painful, too, of course—that Tony’s entire body flinched. Then, Tony realized what had happened. Had Steve just started a bond with Tony? Steve had just bonded him!

Steve had pulled back from Tony’s neck. His face was splotchy from their extensive activity and he was breathing hard as he cupped Tony’s face between his palms. Steve’s face was so close, his eyes so bright that Tony could not tell if the arc reactor’s radiance was highlighting them or if it was all Steve’s internal glow. Then Tony noticed that Steve’s mouth was moving, actually forming words that Steve probably expected Tony to hear and respond to. Oops.

“—ease, Tony, please! Please mark me, I’ll be so good to you—”

Oh yeah, that. Tony loved Steve. Tony certainly was not going to make Steve ask twice. Tony’s head shot up and, quick as a snake, he pressed his face into Steve’s neck and bitten into the tender skin there. His mouth flooded with a strange taste, not just blood, as Tony had expected, but it tasted a little like Steve smelled. It was pleasant. And now Steve would smell a little like Tony, too. He pulled back from Steve’s neck and looked up into his eyes.

“We’re bonded,” Tony said in awe. “I’m bonded to you.”

“You’re my omega,” Steve said, equally reverent, and his eyes tracked from Tony’s eyes down his face and gradually landed on the arc reactor. His gaze raised again, meeting Tony’s. “You’re finally mine.

And then they were both grinning like fools. Steve collapsed down next to Tony in a sweaty heap. Tony laughed and followed him down.

“I can’t believe you’re really okay with this. You sure you aren’t going to regret becoming my mate once the pheromone haze clears?” Tony asked eyeing Steve where he lay beside him. Steve groaned, long and loud and satisfied.

“What pheromone haze, Tony? You’re not in heat and I’m not in rut. We’re perfectly sane and made a completely rational decision.” Then Steve realized what he had said, and turned away from Tony, catching a lip between his teeth. He hoped Tony had not caught onto the fact that Steve did, in fact, know more about the gender traits than Tony had taught him.

“Oh yeah… Did I teach you that today? I must have taught you that, I guess. How else would you know?” Tony replied, and Steve rolled back over to face him in relief.

Steve’s face was still full of color, and there was a smudge of red at his lips that Tony quickly recognized as his own blood. Steve’s entire head of blond hair had gone dark with sweat, and the deep creases around Steve's eyes made it clear how exhausted he was. If Tony had not been so thoroughly wrung out himself, he might have made a snarky comment about how worked over Steve looked. As it was, he barely had the energy left to make his head flop into a position where he could look at Steve.

Steve smiled down at Tony, pink and splotchy, sweaty and pleased, lovely and his. “That was the best lesson I’ve ever had.”

“It had better be,” Tony’s voice lacked the bite it should have had, but Tony hoped he got his feelings across regardless.

“Well, you didn’t bring any snacks this time, so I'm pretty hungry, but… Yeah, I don’t know how you’re going to top that, Tony,” Steve said, way too energetic and way too smug and way too… and way too Steve for a man who had just had Tony over every flat surface in the room. And had carried Tony to each one, besides. “What’s next on the list?”

“Hm… how do you feel about microchips?” Tony asked. He was interested in Steve’s answer, since it was truly something Tony had been preparing to teach Steve about.

“Micro chips?” Steve replied, sounding both curious and slightly incredulous. He likely had not expected Tony’s ready answer.

“Yeah.”

“Um, I wouldn’t mind learning about micro chips. What’s there to learn?” Steve asked, clearly already imagining what shenanigans Tony was going to introduce him to this time.

Tony smirked. He definitely did not have the energy to put on another presentation right now. Putting up a good bluff was one of his particular skills, though. “Well, I guess I’d better get up and go get it ready. Plus, I’ve gotta text Rhodey and tell him that I got laid—”

"Oh no, Tony. You're not going anywhere." Steve's voice was calm and cold in a way Tony had never heard before. 

Tony whipped around in alarm, but relaxed when all he saw was Steve's familiar face gazing back at him. Tony's muscles loosened in relief. Of course it was the same, good-natured Steve Rogers that he knew.

Steve Rogers' omega, Tony thought, face breaking out in a wide smile. That was a title he could get used to. Steve returned his smile, then patted Tony's bare thigh and moved to get up. He left Tony in the bed as he reached into his pocket to grab a travel pack of wet wipes.

"Turn over," Steve said, gently pulling Tony's legs apart so that he could clean up the mess he had left.

Tony crossed his arms over the pillow and rested his head on them. Wow, Tony thought, Steve even had wet wipes on him. That guy was so good at planning ahead. Tony started to drift a bit at the pleasurable sensation of Steve's gentle strokes, but a nagging feeling stopped him.

Just how proficient _was_ Steve at planning? Planning ahead was all well and good, but what grown man carried a pack of wet wipes in his pants pocket? What use had Steve planned to put those to? Tony wondered.

'No, no,' Tony soothed himself. 'I'm sure there are plenty of reasons that a capable guy like Steve would be carrying those around. Yeah, totally...'

To wipe the dust off of a book he planned to read. To clear up a drink he had spilled. To clean up his omega after he finished seducing said omega and said omega's ass had finished sucking all of the seed out of his alpha balls.

'No,' Tony assured himself. 

This was Steven G (God on Earth) Rogers, and he was a good guy. He was _the_ good guy. 

Steve was finished cleaning Tony up and had laid back down on the bed, sprawling half across Tony. Steve threw a leg over Tony's thighs and wound a thick arm around his back. Tony felt strands of Steve's golden hair tickle his ear as Steve pushed his face into Tony's neck with a satisfied sigh.

Steve was too good a guy for Tony to even be thinking something like this about him. He was Mr. Morals.

There was no way Steve would have planned the whole thing to manipulate Tony into his bed.

... right?

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all, folks! This was my first time writing sex, so I hope it was palatable. 
> 
> My beta and I had conflicting ideas on whether or not Steve was a virgin, so we're taking a poll. If you like, please tell me whether you think Steve was actually a virgin or whether it was just another way to manipulate Tony. There are no right or wrong answers; I'm just curious what you guys think.
> 
> I'm considering making this 'Character A teaches Character B about their own parts' a multi-fandom series, so if you want to read more, stick around! 
> 
> Next up, Hannibal...

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Denial Wars- The Sequel to the Prequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003113) by [Dzgenesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dzgenesis/pseuds/Dzgenesis)




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